Tale Of Poets
I
Let me scale off the itches of this realm,
From the enchanted spells of grief,
To expose all to light even in the fogs of their gleams
II
Through stones and rocks,
In the fields of fire and ice,
I'm not of this shade,
I'm just fearless in my lines,
And designed is "I" from a rib,
Like the tales of Eve from Adam's ribs.
III
I am a poet,
You can be in love with me or of my kind,
We'll only set your gaze to the brightness of the sun even in its sets
And in it we delve into our hymns and psalms,
Into our dictions of bleeding stanzas,
Where its patterns are in quatrain set,
All in the sonnet of rhythmic styles.
IV
We raise our flags high,
High, for our surface are not scratched to rile,
For the depth of our kind lies in the sphere of our collective minds,
And in it we sleep and wake just to put the world into our creative lines,
Where our minds write in the pen of glorious inks,
Seeping from every other's pen.
.
Thomas Oluwatosin
© Fearless Lines
2021-07-28 10:28:59
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